


whispers in the morning (of lovers sleeping tight)

by AshDoesFandom



Category: Brave (2012), DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Character death fixed by reincarnation, F/M, Found Family, Friendship, Gothel/Valka parallels, Hiccup and Jack are platonic lifepartners and soulmates, Hiccup and toothles are also platonic lifepartners and soulmates, Hiccup-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Jack is Varian's mentor/older brother figure, Jack-Centric, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Life Partners, Platonic Relationships, Queerplatonic Relationships, Rapunzel and Varian are platonic soulmates/siblings, Rapunzel/Varian & Hiccup/Toothles parallels, Reincarnation, Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons, Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons in 2020???, Romance, me putting my url to use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22141204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshDoesFandom/pseuds/AshDoesFandom
Summary: “Are you talking to me?” Jack shrills, whirling around.The kid blinks. “Who me?”“No, me! Wait. Oh my god. You can see me.”“Are you a ghost?” the kid asks, putting his hands on his hips in the least intimidating gesture Jack has ever seen.“What the fuck. Why would I be a ghost.”(Jamie wasn't the first child to see Jack, he just happens to be the first Jack remembers.Or, the one where Jack has a human soulmate, Rapunzel is a tired older sister, Merida is trying to figure out why Hiccup's talking to the air, and Toothless is done with everyone's shit.)
Relationships: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Astrid Hofferson, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Toothles-platonic/queerplatonic relationship, Hiccup/Jack-Queerplatonic relationship, Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood) & Everyone, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Rapunzel & Varian (Disney)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 71





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> istg I do not have time for another wip with school starting up and all the tv binging i need to get done, but this hit me suddenly in the shower and i couldn't not write it. anyway, long story short, I'm writing a ROTTBD in 2020 because the idea of jack meeting varian wouldn't leave my head and i really need a jack/hiccup queerplatonic relationship fic that lies in the canonical timeline. 
> 
> anyway, have a quick prologue, which feels unfinsihed, but its like 11:15 and my roommate has to get up at like 5:00 and i have zero patience so

It starts with a boy and a dragon.

It’s Jack's third decade as an immortal 17 year old and he’s tired. He’s tired of talking to himself, he’s tired of not eating, he’s tired of not needing sleep and constantly being awake, and mostly he’s just tired of being alone. Summoning snowflakes and full blast blizzards have lost their thrill and now he’s uselessly drifting from town to town, country to country, wondering if there’ll ever be a way out.

Every night, the moon watches over him, silent and unforgiving. _Unmake me_ , Jack silently rages. _Take me back to the darkness_.

If the moon says anything back, it’s also silent.

It’s on one of these empty nights that Jack finds himself on a small, shitty island in the literal middle of nowhere. Despite the remote location, however, there seems to be some kind of celebration going on in the village’s Great Hall. The place seems lively and crowded, but there’s a few smoldering houses and too many testosterone fueled dudes for Jack to feel completely at ease, so he drifts away from the village and into the forests.

Jack decides that this is much better, and settles himself in a tree, ready for his nightly judgmental staring contest with the fucking moon. 

_If you don’t put me back in the fucking lake, I’ll do it myself,_ he thinks very hard at the white piece of shit in the sky.

“Hello?” a voice says, below him to the right. Jack glances down. There’s a child. A child with a plain face, red messy hair, and the brightest green eyes Jack has ever seen. And he’s staring directly at Jack.

Jack whips around, looking for whoever the child is talking to. Obviously, considering Jack is at least several meters up in the air on a frost bitten tree branch, _there’s nobody there_.

“Are you talking to me?” Jack shrills, whirling around.

The kid blinks. “Who me?”

“No, me! Wait. Oh my god. You can see me.”

“Are you a ghost?” the kid asks, putting his hands on his hips in the least intimidating gesture Jack has ever seen.

“What the fuck. Why would I be a ghost.”

“Because you asked if I could see you. And you’re all,” the tiny human gestures with one hand wildly, “white,” he decides.

“Huh.” Jack thoughtfully leans back against the tree. “I guess I can’t rule that out. Wait, you’re distracting me,” he gracefully leaps down from his perch, eliciting a sharp gasp from his companion. “Why can you see me.”

His companion shrugs nonchalantly. “Should I not be able to see you?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Jack says fervently. “ _No one_ can see me.”

The kid tilts his head in a catlike manner. “Well…” he says, drawn out. “I was coming out here offer Loki a tribute. Maybe you’re a god,” he decides.

Jack blinks. “Why are you offering Loki a tribute. Who _is_ Loki?”

The kid looks vaguely offended. “Tuffnut says that Loki will help me get revenge on my enemies,” he says at last, electing to ignore Jack’s second question.

“And just what enemies do _you_ have, you’re like five years old.”

“I’m _nine,_ ” the kid huffs. “And someone tried to drown me.”

Jack stares down at the adorable pest of a child in front of him. There’s a smattering of freckles gracing his pale nose and checks that strangely enough brings out the brown flecks swimming in his large, red-rimmed eyes. He’s small for nine—about as small as the children he saw starving to death in a nearby Nordic village. Looking closer, Jack can see faded bruises around his wrists and neck, and a fresher one just blossoming on one of his high cheekbones.

Someone had been playing _rough_ with this kid.

“That’s fucked up,” Jack says dumbly, feeling something strange throb in his chest.

The small child frowns, eyebrows drawing in. “What’s fucked mean?”

He winces. “Uh, don’t worry about it. And don’t repeat it!” he adds quickly, not wanting the kid to get in trouble. “What’s your name?”

“Hiccup.”

“Excuse me.”

“Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third.”

“That’s it, I’m having a talk with your parents.”

“But you said no one could see you!”

“Fuck that—wait oh _shit_.”

“Shit!” the child repeats after him, delighted. “Gobber says that one a lot.”

Jack presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Who’s Gobber?”

Hiccup pauses thoughtfully. “He’s like my other dad,” he says at last. Which explained absolutely nothing.

“Okay, you know what. Let’s table all this for later. Heaven _forbid_ I be the responsible one, but it’s like midnight and you should be in bed right now.”

“It’s not as if Dad’s gonna notice,” Hiccup argues. “He’s busy right now.”

“Too busy to look after his bruised, waterlogged kid?” Jack raises an eyebrow.

Hiccup deflates, wrapping his arms around himself. “He doesn’t notice that kind of thing anymore,” he mumbles.

If Jack hadn’t already decided he was sticking around this kid for the relief of _finally_ having someone to talk to, he was _definitely_ sticking around for the foreseeable future _now_.

“What do you mean,” Jack grits out, starting to feel repetitive in his questions at this point, “he doesn’t _notice_?”

“Everyone else my age is like this,” Hiccup says, kicking at the dirt with is right foot. “I mean, Snotlout”— _who the fuck is naming these children_ —“doesn’t try to drown me, but he’s not very nice.”

“Yeah? And what’s the name of the numbskull who tried to drown you?” Jack presses.

Hiccup puffs out a breath of air. It fogs in front of his face. “Dagur. He’s the Berserker prince.”

Great. Royalty. That probably explains why Hiccup seems to be severely neglected by any adult supervision. Not that it excused that behavior.

Jack sighs. “Look, it doesn’t matter whether or not your dad is going to notice, you should be in bed. I’ll walk you back.”

“But I—okay,” Hiccup gives in at Jack’s pointed look. “You’ll come with me?” he hedges, softly.

“Yeah,” he says, the strange throb back in his chest at Hiccup’s pleading face. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.”

* * *

Jack learns three things over the next few hours. The first is, the adults in Hiccup’s life aren’t nearly as neglectful as he previous thought. The second is, _holy shit Hiccup’s dad is chief of this shit island which by proxy makes Hiccup royalty too???_ And the third is, Gobber is the best thing to happen to this poor kid.

All three of these revelations come within minutes of each other, when a large, burly man slams open the door of the house Hiccup was about to enter, catches the small child in his arms for a brief, but heartfelt hug, and then pulls him into the house where he begins a longwinded lecture on the duties of a chief and how children disappearing in the middle of a “Thing” feast hinders said duties.

Hiccup looked overwhelmed, and on the verge of tears, until another burly man entered the house and told Stoick to _calm down yer scarin’ the lad he came back didn’ he?_

The chief— _Stoick_ —calmed down enough to ask Hiccup where he’d been.

“I was offering a tribute to Loki,” Hiccup replies boldly.

Gobber lets out a barking laugh, slapping Stoick on the shoulder. “An’ yeh were worried about ‘im. That seems like normal _Viking_ behavior to me,” the blonde haired man grins. “Did yeh find Loki, lad?”

Hiccup nods vigorously. “He calls himself Jack and he’s all white,” he replies as Jack slaps a hand to his face dramatically.

“They can’t see me!” Jack hisses as Stoick sighs heavily and says, “We’ve _talked_ about yer imagination, Hiccup.”

Hiccup frowns and looks at Jack, “But—”

“Just pretend you can’t see me,” Jack says, ignoring the pained feeling he gets at the thought of the one person who can _finally see him_ , ignoring him, “or they’ll think you’re crazy or—”

“Loki coulda visted him!” Gobber protests, in Hiccup’s defense, waving a metal prosthetic in the shape of a hammer for emphasis. “The gods have been known ta visit mortals!”

Jack decides he likes Gobber.

Stoick rolls his eyes. “It’s getting late, you should head to bed,” he tells his son, quelling Gobber’s rant with a glare.

Hiccup also rolls his eyes. Body types aside, Jack can see the resemblance between the two redheads. “Fine,” the kid sullenly mutters.

“Fine,” the Chief grits out in frustration.

“Fine,” Gobber says cheerfully.

Hiccup and Stoick stare at him.

Jack sighs. “Is it too late to go back in the lake, Moon?” He stares outside the window at the white orb hanging in a velvety sky.

The moon says nothing, but Jack has the oddest impression that it is laughing at him. 


	2. PART ONE: Sjelvenn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is having a fucking bad day. Mostly it’s because Hiccup is Night Fury hunting, but some if it is because Hiccup isn’t listening to him.
> 
> Okay, wait. Back up.

Jack is having a fucking bad day. Mostly it’s because Hiccup is Night Fury hunting, but some if it is because Hiccup isn’t _listening_ to him.

Okay, wait. Back up.

It starts when Hiccup _shoots down_ a Night Fury. An idea that Jack was originally for (the pure chaotic madness that is Hiccup trying to kill a dragon outside of conventional Viking means fills Jack with unexplained amusement), but later ultimately against when said Night Fury pins his best friend to the ground and almost eats his face.

Jack still isn’t sure who is more shaken, Hiccup or himself, but concludes that Hiccup definitely is having a worse time then him, considering that the scrawny teen passes out almost immediately after the dragon vacates the area. 

“Well, so much for being a Viking,” Hiccup says, face down in the dirt, after he’s revived. Which. Okay. Back _that_ up.

To start at the very beginning, Jack has to acknowledge that everything that happens after the Night Fury comes into their lives was—well—long coming. From the start, Jack was aware that Hiccup wasn’t your ordinary Viking. He was clever, soft-spoken and lacked in physical strength. His strange, sarcastic humor did not endear him to Viking society the way it did to Jack, which, on top of his other “failings”, meant that Hiccup did not exactly fit in. To put it lightly.

And it only got worse as Hiccup hit his teen years.

His peers saw him as a screwball oddball; his elders were either in a state of irritation or indifference (except Gobber, thank _god_ for Gobber). And this combined with Hiccup’s stubborn personality and clever brain meant that the young Viking spent most of his free time trying to prove himself to a society that had already dismissed him as useless.

It was as sad as it was infuriating.

So yes, Jack was equal parts amused by Hiccup’s attempts to shoot down a Night Fury as he was hopeful, but unfortunately that hope was immediately dashed the minute Hiccup turned his knife away from the beast’s throat to the binds holding him and set the monster free.

Which was why now, as Jack watched his best friend lie face down in the dirt, he did nothing to encourage him after the Night Fury. Instead, he crouched down in front of him and poked him with his staff.

“Ow. Stop.”

Jack—still unable after five years to get over the fact that Hiccup could see and (occasionally, when Jack was feeling more believed in) touch him—pokes him again.

“Jack, _stooooop,_ ” Hiccup wines, turning his face to the side. There is dirt on his nose and chin, Jack observes, as Hiccup blows his hair out of his face.

“Are we done hunting dragons?” Jack deadpans.

Hiccup pouts petulantly. “ _Jack_.”

The white-haired sprite raises an eyebrow.

“Fine,” Hiccup sighes. “We’re done hunting dragons.”

Jack smiles, all teeth. “Good to hear buddy. I always thought dragons were overrated anyway.”

His companion looks unhappy, but pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Ugh.” He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “We will _not_ be telling Dad about this one.”

“Well _duh_ ,” Jack rolls eyes, offering Hiccup a hand up. As the boy’s hands slides into his own, Jack feels something settle under his skin. He quickly lets go and starts heading back toward the village. “I guess if you wanna impress Astrid, you’ve gotta bring something else to the table.”

“Could we stop talking about that, please,” Hiccup mutters, rubbing his face. “I still feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“I hear that bread-making is in this year.”

“Jack _shut up_.”

So no, the dragon hunting is off the table permanently, much to Jack’s relief, until later that night when Stoick comes home and tells Hiccup that he can hunt dragons.

Which. What the fuck Stoick.

Okay, let’s back _that_ up.

Hiccup and Stoick’s relationship has been on the down-cline ever since Hiccup hit around twelve years old. Puberty hit Hiccup, and as soon as it was plainly obvious that he was going to be a different kind of Viking, things kind of went to shit.

And, surprisingly enough, it wasn’t _completely_ Stoick’s fault.

To give the brawny Viking credit, Stoick did try. He accepted the fact that Hiccup was different and did his best to adjust to Hiccup’s differences rather than have Hiccup change, but as the other teens began to reject Hiccup (along with most of the adults), Hiccup began surlier and more troublesome and eventually the father and son could barely sit in the same room with one another. It was obvious to anyone observing that the two loved each other, but their differences drove a chasm between them that only kept getting larger as Hiccup grew.

Stoick began to be fiercely overprotective of his son to the point that it was unhealthy and Hiccup rebelled in every way he could think how.

So no, when Jack heard Stoick offer to send his son to dragon training, he choked with surprised laughter until he realized that the man was—well— _serious_.

“What the fuck.”

The look on Hiccup’s face conveyed the same feeling, although out loud he vehemently protested. He even went as far to reuse Jack’s bread making joke, which amused the sprite to no end. 

As his father walked out, a few moments later, Hiccup turned to stare at Jack.

“Did I imagine that. Did Dad just tell me I’m going to dragon training.”

Jack grimaced. “And here we said no more dragon hunting. Fuck.” He sprang off the floor and flopped down on one of the ceiling beams. “Thank god winters coming. I can make an early blizzard come tomorrow morning.”

“What _no_. Jack, all the crops will die, and we’re already low from the last raid,” Hiccup hisses. “I’ll just skip.”

The white haired boy scoffs. “Yeah right. Like Gobber won’t tell your dad. I guess you’ll just have to suck it up and go.”

Hiccup scuffs his boot against the wood floor. “Yeah. _Fuck_.”

Jack grins and folds his hands under his head. “Yeah, _fuck,”_ he agrees. 

* * *

Jack is against it.

Which is hilarious in retrospect. Because, you see, Jack is like the fucking god of bad ideas. It’s probably why Hiccup is still determined to believe that Jack is Loki or some derivative of the mischievous god. Which ok. Fair.

If you drew a painting of the god of bad ideas, that painting would just be a picture of Jack flipping off a pack of Berserkers while cartwheeling on the back of a Monstrous Nightmare which is flying directly into a pit of venomous snakes that haven’t been fed for five months and swim in lava.

In other words, Jack is a fucking moron.

He’s sure half the trouble that Hiccup gets in, he probably could avoid if he had never met Jack. Which is exactly why when Hiccup decides to go into the forest to investigate the scene of the crime—the crime being Hiccup nearly being mauled by a dangerous giant lizard—Jack vehemently protests and is just as vehemently ignored.

It all ends, of course, with Hiccup almost having heart failure as the massive cold-blooded creature leaps off the edge of the cove wall and almost directly in to Hiccup and Jack. Hiccup almost falls off the edge, but it saved by Jack hooking his staff around his ankle and dragging him back.

To reiterate: Jack is having a bad fucking day. Between this morning’s Dragon Training and Hiccup taking a hike to _find_ the Night Fury again, Jack is ready to go back into the lake. Just fucking faceplant straight into that lake of ice and never come out again.

Of course Hiccup ignores his panicked state and starts sketching the dragon, firing off questions and rapid fire.

“Why is he still here? Shouldn’t he have flown away by now? Does his body construction contribute to his speed?”

Jack rubs his temples. He is _very_ stressed out.

“Hiccup.”

“Do you think his scales—”

“Oh my god Hiccup.”

“What’s up with his tail?”

“Man in the moon, take me _back_.”

“Why doesn’t he just fly away?”

Jack pauses at that one. Good question.

* * *

It’s not long before Gobber gives them the answer.

Jack watches Hiccup slip away from the fire pit, but makes no move to join him. For the moment anyway. Instead, he continues to lean back against one of the wooden pillars and watch the rest of the teens needle each other.

He carefully keeps an eye on Gobber, wondering if the man knows.

Hiccup isn’t being exactly subtle. He’s been disappearing every other day and couple that with the knowledge of him claiming to have shot down a Night Fury a few day prior…

It’s not very hard to figure out. Jack just thanks whatever gods these Vikings believe in that Stoick is still gone. Hopefully by then Hiccup will have sorted out whatever’s going on between him and the dragon.

Or not.

Jack saw the way Hiccup was looking at that dragon. There was a connection there that Jack was almost envious of the instant that Hiccup’s small, calloused hand made contact with the dark beast’s scaly snout. Of course the dragon had snorted indifferently afterwards and darted away instantly, but Jack knew the creature was hooked.

Hiccup just had that adorable charm that drew massive creatures of destruction to him.

So now Jack was realizing that he may potentially have to share his best friend with another being which made him feel odd. Hiccup had grown up with few friends and was mostly isolated, which was fine for Jack, as Hiccup was his only source of human interaction. But now Hiccup’s world was expanded beyond Jack.

So Jack lets Hiccup quietly slip off, by himself, and continues to watch the other young Vikings.

Astrid seems to be the only one who notices Hiccup’s departure, but she shrugs it off fairly quickly. (Jack can’t help but feel slightly offended by her rejection of his friend, but he decides to ignore her.)

Jack turns his attention back to Gobber, who is currently suggesting that the rest of the Viking teens get some rest. As the group disperses, Jack catches a drift of wind and lets it carry him to the docks where he plops down to watch the starry sky.

The moon isn’t out tonight. Jack doesn’t even know what he would say if it was. His resentment for the silent mosaic still lingers, but has been soothed by the balm of Hiccup’s presence over the past few years. He still sometimes finds himself staring up at the bright orb, silently screaming at it to tell him his purpose, his meaning.

The air is cold, which would bother Jack if he was, ya know. Alive. He still lets a shiver wrack through his thin frame and pretends like it’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still alive *dabs in dragonese*

**Author's Note:**

> pls leave a comment thing to rid my fucking body from anxiety


End file.
